WHAT LIES BENEATH...
THE EVOLUTION OF LINEDIN
Lately I’m seeing more and more posts complaining that LinkedIn has changed. Shocking.
That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest because I’ve been saying exactly that for months. But since nobody ever bothered to disagree with me and I was pissing in the wind, I assumed that I was simply being cynical. As usual.
It’s true; it has changed. But I just don’t get the fuss around it. That’s the rule of the game, ladies and gentlemen; every social media platform changes. They rarely keep the identity—or the purpose—they started with. Eventually, they become a reflection of the people using them.
Facebook became an emotional dumping ground. TikTok rewards immediacy more than reflection. X thrives on permanent confrontation.
So what happened to LinkedIn?
Well, the exact same thing that happens to any platform that becomes dominated by a single way of thinking—the acceptable one, the righteous one. It inevitably becomes predictable, then… fucking boring. And occasionally dodgy.
I’ll deliberately leave aside the questionable practice of ghost jobs designed to sell more premium subscriptions. It’s shady, it’s debatable, and probably deserves its own article. But not today.
Today what interests me is how a platform built for professional discussion has quietly become the kingdom of consensus, a shallow echo chamber of platitudes and well-curated half-assed statements. The answer is far simpler than you think and way more obvious… because discussion and debates have disappeared.
You remember that thing, right? Exchanging opposing points of view and disagreement when you are confronting ideas that were not labeled automatically as heresy. It helped sharpen your mind and open your eyes to new theories, new ideas, and a different horizon, or it just made you realize that there is always another side to a story.
But when that is gone and the conversation is tight to political correctness and constructed with blinders, something else fills the space, meaningless comments and intellectual laziness.
I know I am going to make a lot of new friends here, but I don't give a shit.
I am always amazed by people who have dinner at a restaurant one night and wake up the next morning as hospitality experts and out of the fucking blue somehow turn their last meal into a masterclass on restaurant leadership.
How many times have I read about stories ranking fast-food chains according to who makes the best fries, the most life-changing fucking burger sauce, or which cheap brand has the best microwavable meals?
By the way—and I know this will upset some people because these brands have become sacred temples—but…what the hell are fast-food chains doing in discussions about the restaurant industry?
Marketing? Yeah, sure. I’ll give you that. But using the words “service” and “craft,” or even better "hospitality," I think we’ve wandered way outside the boundaries of common sense, no?
And I won’t even go into the rise of political rants and rally speeches to support one side or trash the other one.
Oh, and my favorite: people posting photos of their receipts, explaining why they tipped—or didn’t—and giving us a lecture on what service should or shouldn’t be. Seriously, nobody gives a shit, buddy; just pay your tab and shut the fuck up unless you have something interesting to say.
Here’s another fun experiment: Look at the self-proclaimed experts’ posts and put their posts next to one another. You’ll see that either one person secretly writes all of them—and honestly, I’d admire the productivity—or every single one of them thinks exactly the same.
And that is precisely my point.
I would love to know when was the last time you genuinely read an opinion that surprised you? One that challenged you? One that made you stop scrolling?
Take your time.
Better yet… When was the last time you, yeah, you, published something without wondering whether the algorithm would like it? Without wondering if a recruiter would see it or if a client might take offense, and of course if it would make you lose a few followers?
Because God forbid, you don’t want to do anything that would damage that carefully polished professional image you’ve spent years manufacturing to fit comfortably inside that mainstream.
That’s what lies beneath the evolution of LinkedIn.
It has become uninteresting, flat, and hollow. Oh wait a minute, you won't get away with it that easily because it isn’t LinkedIn’s fault. It’s ours; well, yours mostly. Because LinkedIn is nothing more than an empty shell. A car without fuel. We’re the ones filling the tank. We’re the ones producing the content. So if what is published is trying very hard to please everyone, then we end up with almost nothing worth reading—just sterilized, pre-approved ideas that will ultimately prevent us from widening our minds.
And I’m not even talking about provoking people or publishing outrageous opinions; I’m talking about saying something that actually belongs to you, whether good or badly written. The point is not to run for the Pulitzer but to deliver something that does not necessarily fit in the popular narrative. To start discussions, not to avoid them.
I have always thought that risking an opinion is always more interesting than recycling others’ points of view with your own words and silently nodding and agreeing not to disagree. You know the kind, the same safe clichés you read here and there:
— Restaurants are struggling because…
— Leadership starts with empathy.
—Service breaks because….
— Restaurants fail because
All this kind of bullshit. I've read them all, and I am sure so did you.
So let’s be honest here; we have to stop making the mistake of considering that LinkedIn is still a professional network; it’s not anymore. It has degenerated into a corporate Facebook, fueled by a well-designed algorithm that rewards superficial brain farts over actual intellect. It buries smart articles under a pile of fortune cookie-level posts, leaving space for one-way bragging, cringey hustle-culture speeches, and brainless “Agree?” engagement traps where nobody dares to say anything challenging because their resume is attached to their face.
So the algorithm doesn’t reward audacity; it rewards comfort. The result is always the same; it becomes lukewarm. Sterile. Sanitized. It's mathematical.
The thing is nowadays our social image has become such an addiction and a benchmark for self-gratification and self-promotion that people are terrified of being judged in the public frame they voluntarily walled themselves into.
So they stop thinking boldly and adopting points of view instead of debating them and repeating ideas instead of confronting them. They no longer speak their mind; they whisper somebody else’s truths, and they hide behind vague language and carefully constructed ambiguity designed to offend absolutely no one, trading raw authenticity for superficial social peace.
Everything is blurry on purpose.
Which isn’t that surprising, really; we live in an era addicted to performative kindness, so everyone gives inspiring speeches. Everyone claims to listen. Everyone claims to understand. Yet the moment the computers or phones are off… tolerance suddenly disappears.
Fuck that… I refuse that contract. I categorically refuse to participate in that grand ceremony of compulsory compassion and carefully manufactured appearances. I’d rather widen the conversation, challenge assumptions, and defend my disagreements and fight against smoothness and blandness. But not just for the sake of it, but just because I have a different opinion, and I won't change it just because somebody says the opposite louder.
That’s why when I write, my intention is not to be liked. Quite the opposite. I don’t hide anything; I don’t avoid any subject. I speak my mind, so my flaws are exposed, raw and wrapped around the marketed packaging of political correctness.
So yes, my articles may be a bit inflammatory. My books divide people. Good. I’m proud of that. At least people always know exactly where I stand. I try as much as possible not to write to hand out intellectual sedatives; I’d rather publish something that unsettles people than something that reassures everyone.
Don’t misunderstand me; I am not lecturing or patronizing, nor am I suggesting to anyone how to think. I simply regret that the courage of speaking your mind is no longer a virtue. It’s a social sin.
The hell with it. I’ll keep being a pain in the ass. I’ll keep shaking the walls… even if the ceiling collapses on my head. Because emptiness bores the fuck out of me, lukewarm ideas exhaust me, and polite compromises have always made me nauseous. And even if that means being wrong, or if that earns me criticism…or if that means upsetting people… To tell you the truth, I don’t mind burning a few bridges and rattle the nest, and I’d rather have a clean break than suffocate slowly from diplomatic boredom.
In the end, if all this doesn’t make me very popular, I couldn’t care less. For me that isn't a failure; it’s the price of refusing conformity. And to be blunt, honesty is worth more to me than comfort.
But what about you? Where do you draw the line? Tell me.
Where is the boundary between being nuanced and simply disappearing into the crowd?
Again, I’m not asking you to agree with me. It’s the exact opposite; I wish more people openly disagreed but used anything other than recycled bullshit to express their opinions.
What saddens me is watching intelligent people become afraid of stating an honest opinion. For fuck’s sake, you should be proud of having one. Isn’t freedom of thought supposed to be part of who we are in this country?
Debate has never been the problem. It’s the disappearance of it that is. And if everyone keeps waiting for somebody else to speak first and agrees with the last one who did… who exactly is supposed to keep the conversation alive and interesting?
So here’s what I beg you to do: the next time you publish something, ask yourself the question:
Did you write what you believe?
Or what you hoped people would approve of?
7/30/26
NEWSLETTER
YOUR SEAT AT THE TABLE STARTS HERE
NO SPAM.
NO SPIN.
THE GOOD STUFF ONLY
Sharp stories, honest conversations, and the occasional badly behaved opinion. Delivered when there’s something worth saying.
BY SIGNING UP, YOU AGREE TO RECEIVE EMAILS FROM FOODNBULLSHIT. UNSUBSCRIBE ANYTIME.
© 2026 FOODNBULLSHIT All rights reserved.
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Lately I’m seeing more and more posts complaining that LinkedIn has changed. Shocking.
That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest because I’ve been saying exactly that for months. But since nobody ever bothered to disagree with me and I was pissing in the wind, I assumed that I was simply being cynical. As usual.
It’s true; it has changed. But I just don’t get the fuss around it. That’s the rule of the game, ladies and gentlemen; every social media platform changes. They rarely keep the identity—or the purpose—they started with. Eventually, they become a reflection of the people using them.
Facebook became an emotional dumping ground. TikTok rewards immediacy more than reflection. X thrives on permanent confrontation.
So what happened to LinkedIn?
Well, the exact same thing that happens to any platform that becomes dominated by a single way of thinking—the acceptable one, the righteous one. It inevitably becomes predictable, then… fucking boring. And occasionally dodgy.
I’ll deliberately leave aside the questionable practice of ghost jobs designed to sell more premium subscriptions. It’s shady, it’s debatable, and probably deserves its own article. But not today.
Today what interests me is how a platform built for professional discussion has quietly become the kingdom of consensus, a shallow echo chamber of platitudes and well-curated half-assed statements. The answer is far simpler than you think and way more obvious… because discussion and debates have disappeared.
You remember that thing, right? Exchanging opposing points of view and disagreement when you are confronting ideas that were not labeled automatically as heresy. It helped sharpen your mind and open your eyes to new theories, new ideas, and a different horizon, or it just made you realize that there is always another side to a story.
But when that is gone and the conversation is tight to political correctness and constrained by blinders, something else fills the space: meaningless comments and intellectual laziness.
I know I am going to make a lot of new friends here, but I don't give a shit.
I am always amazed by people who have dinner at a restaurant one night and wake up the next morning as hospitality experts and out of the fucking blue somehow turn their last meal into a masterclass on restaurant leadership.
How many times have I read about stories ranking fast-food chains according to who makes the best fries, the most life-changing fucking burger sauce, or which cheap brand has the best microwavable meals?
By the way—and I know this will upset some people because these brands have become sacred temples—but…what the hell are fast-food chains doing in discussions about the restaurant industry?
Marketing? Yeah, sure. I’ll give you that. But using the words “service” and “craft,” or even better "hospitality," I think we’ve wandered way outside the boundaries of common sense, no?
And I won’t even go into the rise of political rants and rally speeches to support one side or trash the other one.
Oh, and my favorite: people posting photos of their receipts, explaining why they tipped—or didn’t—and giving us a lecture on what service should or shouldn’t be. Seriously, nobody gives a shit, buddy; just pay your tab and shut the fuck up unless you have something interesting to say.
Here’s another fun experiment: Look at the self-proclaimed experts’ posts and put their posts next to one another. You’ll see that either one person secretly writes all of them—and honestly, I’d admire the productivity—or every single one of them thinks exactly the same.
And that is precisely my point.
I would love to know when was the last time you genuinely read an opinion that surprised you? One that challenged you? One that made you stop scrolling?
Take your time.
Better yet… When was the last time you, yeah, you, published something without wondering whether the algorithm would like it? Without wondering if a recruiter would see it or if a client might take offense, and of course if it would make you lose a few followers?
Because God forbid, you don’t want to do anything that would damage that carefully polished professional image you’ve spent years manufacturing to fit comfortably inside that mainstream.
That’s what lies beneath the evolution of LinkedIn.
It has become uninteresting, flat, and hollow. Oh wait a minute, you won't get away with it that easily because it isn’t LinkedIn’s fault. It’s ours; well, yours mostly. Because LinkedIn is nothing more than an empty shell. A car without fuel. We’re the ones filling the tank. We’re the ones producing the content. So if what is published is trying very hard to please everyone, then we end up with almost nothing worth reading—just sterilized, pre-approved ideas that will ultimately prevent us from widening our minds.
And I’m not even talking about provoking people or publishing outrageous opinions; I’m talking about saying something that actually belongs to you, whether good or badly written. The point is not to run for the Pulitzer but to deliver something that does not necessarily fit in the popular narrative. To start discussions, not to avoid them.
I have always thought that risking an opinion is always more interesting than recycling others’ points of view with your own words and silently nodding and agreeing not to disagree. You know the kind, the same safe clichés you read here and there:
— Restaurants are struggling because…
— Leadership starts with empathy.
—Service breaks because….
— Restaurants fail because
All this kind of bullshit. I've read them all, and I am sure so did you.
So let’s be honest here; we have to stop making the mistake of considering that LinkedIn is still a professional network; it’s not anymore. It has degenerated into a corporate Facebook, fueled by a well-designed algorithm that rewards superficial brain farts over actual intellect. It buries smart articles under a pile of fortune cookie-level posts, leaving space for one-way bragging, cringey hustle-culture speeches, and brainless “Agree?” engagement traps where nobody dares to say anything challenging because their resume is attached to their face.
So the algorithm doesn’t reward audacity; it rewards comfort. The result is always the same; it becomes lukewarm. Sterile. Sanitized. It's mathematical.
The thing is nowadays our social image has become such an addiction and a benchmark for self-gratification and self-promotion that people are terrified of being judged in the public frame they voluntarily walled themselves into.
So they stop thinking boldly and adopting points of view instead of debating them and repeating ideas instead of confronting them. They no longer speak their mind; they whisper somebody else’s truths, and they hide behind vague language and carefully constructed ambiguity designed to offend absolutely no one, trading raw authenticity for superficial social peace.
Everything is blurry on purpose.
Which isn’t that surprising, really; we live in an era addicted to performative kindness, so everyone gives inspiring speeches. Everyone claims to listen. Everyone claims to understand. Yet the moment the computers or phones are off… tolerance suddenly disappears.
Fuck that… I refuse that deal. I won't be part of in that grand ceremony of compulsory compassion and carefully manufactured appearances. I’d rather widen the conversation, challenge assumptions, and defend my disagreements and fight against smoothness and blandness. But not just for the sake of it, but just because I have a different opinion, and I won't change it just because somebody says the opposite louder.
That’s why when I write, my intention is not to be liked. Quite the opposite. I don’t hide anything; I don’t avoid any subject. I speak my mind, so my flaws are exposed, raw and wrapped around the marketed packaging of political correctness.
So yes, my articles may be a bit inflammatory. My books divide people. Good. I’m proud of that. At least people always know exactly where I stand. I try as much as possible not to write to hand out intellectual sedatives; I’d rather publish something that unsettles people than something that reassures everyone.
Don’t misunderstand me; I am not lecturing or patronizing, nor am I suggesting to anyone how to think. I simply regret that the courage of speaking your mind is no longer a virtue. It’s a social sin.
The hell with it. I’ll keep being a pain in the ass. I’ll keep shaking the walls… even if the ceiling collapses on my head. Because emptiness bores the fuck out of me, lukewarm ideas exhaust me, and polite compromises have always made me nauseous. And even if that means being wrong, or if that earns me criticism…or if that means upsetting people… To tell you the truth, I don’t mind burning a few bridges and rattle the nest, and I’d rather have a clean break than suffocate slowly from diplomatic boredom.
In the end, if all this doesn’t make me very popular, I couldn’t care less. For me that isn't a failure; it’s the price of refusing conformity. And to be blunt, honesty is worth more to me than comfort.
But what about you? Where do you draw the line? Tell me.
Where is the boundary between being nuanced and simply disappearing into the crowd?
Again, I’m not asking you to agree with me. It’s the exact opposite; I wish more people openly disagreed but used anything other than recycled bullshit to express their opinions.
What saddens me is watching intelligent people become afraid of stating an honest opinion. For fuck’s sake, you should be proud of having one. Isn’t freedom of thought supposed to be part of who we are in this country?
Debate has never been the problem. It’s the disappearance of it that is. And if everyone keeps waiting for somebody else to speak first and agrees with the last one who did… who exactly is supposed to keep the conversation alive and interesting?
So here’s what I beg you to do: the next time you publish something, ask yourself the question:
Did you write what you believe?
Or what you hoped people would approve of?
WHAT LIES BENEATH...
the evolution of LinkedIn
7/21/26
NEWSLETTER
NO SPAM.
NO SPIN.
THE GOOD STUFF ONLY
Sharp stories, honest conversations, and the occasional badly behaved opinion. Delivered when there’s something worth saying.
BY SIGNING UP, YOU AGREE TO RECEIVE EMAILS FROM FOODNBULLSHIT. UNSUBSCRIBE ANYTIME.
© 2026 FOODNBULLSHIT All rights reserved.